What Might Have Been
by Corrinth
Summary: Chapter 7 posted. Wolverine makes Vixen an offer. This is what might have been, had Xavier's daughter joined the Brotherhood. Pls review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I own none of the X-Men characters, save for Ilehana Xavier. Blaze belongs to Lamby. Apologies in advance for any insults to your characters, this is A/U after all!!! Rating is for adult themes. Pinched and adapted the first couple of paragraphs from Lamby's "Dark Is The Hour" – go read if you want the true version!! I guess this is a bit more Evo based than movie verse, but hell, I thought it might be fun.

A/N : Once upon a time, ages and ages ago, I had an image of an evil Vixen running round in my head, and an image of Blaze in a cream cardigan and thick-rimmed glasses. I couldn't resist, it had to be done! Ok so things didn't quite play out the way I planned, but here goes! My thanks to Lamby for her permission to post this!

This is set sometime after X2 and the Phoenix Saga.

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 1**

It was dark. Black and sullen, the sky masked with clouds, the streetlights murky with fog and grime. In the distance the freeway hummed with its constant traffic, alive. But here, in the back streets and alleyways of the industrial quarter of the city, she could almost believe she was alone.

She walked quickly, a young woman in an unfamiliar setting, dressed in sensible shoes, pencil trousers and matching jacket, her steps clicking on the hard asphalt with every step. Uncertain, she took a wrong turn and faced an eight-foot wire mesh fence; this place was like maze……… Panic began to well in her gut, churning her stomach, making her warm and uncomfortable. Forcefully she turned her mind back to the task in hand, she could not panic now.

It was then she heard the first signs of her pursuit. With unexpected agility she turned back down the blocked alley at a run, and launched herself at the mesh. She had it! Her fingers grasped the taunt wire tight, her feet kicked for a purchase, and then she was over. Dropping down the other side almost silently, she landed in a catlike crouch. Looking each way whilst readjusting her glasses, she decided on the left, and made her break.

It was the wrong way. The back street the alley with the fence came off simply snaked round the dominating warehouse, meeting the left hand road further up. She hadn't realised! She was so stupid! Mentally she swore at herself, fear cornering her like a rabbit even before her pursuers spotted her.

"There!" The inevitable shout went up, deep and feral. The sound of running feet combined with a more muffled sound… like dogs? The young woman looked up to see the most obscure bunch of… beings that she'd ever seen. The giant known as Sabretooth, his furry face and fangs terrifying her instantly, a young man with greasy blonde hair, a large silver lighter in his hand and a sly look to him, an older woman with an artificial-yellow fire smouldering in her eyes, a man dressed in a long brown trench coat with a mop of wild brown hair and… the young woman had to look again… a giant white tiger? Her photographic memory acknowledged it all in an instant, and she knew then that she stood no chance of surviving this time…

_We're not alone_. The warning echoed in the back of her mind, making her glance sharply around. She caught the gaze of the tiger, the predatory glare trapping her, paralysing in its unnaturalness. In that moment the beast seemed to know her every thought, glean every memory, the young woman hung her head in shame. For anyone to know what she was, what she had done… It just didn't bear thinking about. And that gaze wasn't exactly understanding.

"You t'ink, Cherie?" The guy in the trench coat responded sarcastically, having to shout to make himself heard over the sudden, colossal roar of an engine, and seconds later they were all watching as a large black jet soared in to hover overhead.

_Well you certainly don't Gambit._ The telepathic thought was thrown open to the gathered crowd, their prey included.

"Cut it out you two!" The woman with the yellow eyes snapped. "Sabretooth, get the girl!"

"My pleasure." The feral man growled, though there was a strange hint of a satisfied purr in there too. He stepped up to their quarry, completely ignoring her sudden scream, and hauled her away from the main group. Or at least he tried to.

"Going somewhere?"

"_You_ still own me a scream…" Was Sabretooth's somewhat predictable greeting to Storm, the X-Man who blocked his path. He took in a deep snuff, breathing her scent, and there was something lewd in the way he exhaled at her, enough to make Storm's nose wrinkle in disgust.

"She don't owe you nothin' Bub." Wolverine made his entrance having leapt from the tail ramp of the low flying jet to land in a crouch, his adimantium claws blazing as they reflected the light from those set into the base of the jet. He snarled as he straightened up a little, watched at Sabretooth retreated slightly into the centre of the Brotherhood pack. The group as a whole followed his example, moving back from Wolverine and Storm as the jet pulled away to settle on a rooftop. They had what they came for after all, no sense in getting a pointless fight, despite the temptations of kicking some X-butt.

"Didn't your mothers ever teach you to watch where you're walking?" A sly comment from behind halted the group, but not before Pyro had slipped on a large patch of ice and collapsed in an ungainly heap on the floor. Bobby Drake, a.k.a. Iceman, smiled at his one-time friend and schoolmate. "Slipped up one too many times, didn't we John?"

"You're funny." Pyro snapped, leaping upright, red in the face and very, very angry. "Let's warm things up a little!" His lighter snapped and the fire-controller flung a ball of flames at his ex-friend. It bounced harmlessly off a telekinetic shield produced by Jean Grey. Furious at having missed his intended target, Pyro tried again with a larger, much more powerful fireball that threatened to singe his neighbours before he would release it.

Again, Jean repelled the sphere of flames, making a comment about John never being too hot in a fight, and this time he lost his rag entirely, running at Jean with a battle roar. She tried to stop him with her mind powers, but half-screamed as an image of a Grey Wolf burned into her mind. Since when was there was a telepath amidst the Brotherhood? Pyro ran full pelt into Jean, knocking her backwards, then being thrown sideways himself as Bobby set on him. Mystique, in the guise of a thirty-something year old female jogger, launched herself in Bobby's direction in defence of her team-mate, becoming her usual blue-self as she viciously attacked the Iceman.

On the other side of the group, Wolverine fired himself into the fray, his claws aiming for Sabretooth alone, his intention to free the girl and let Storm lead her away. But in a flurry of snarls and fur, the giant white tiger met Logan's leap head on. Her skull being larger and thicker than Wolverine's, the force of her leap that much greater, meant that Logan was too easily overpowered. He found himself pinned by the great beast, her claws flexing just enough to draw blood. He grunted with the pain, silently hating the way she toyed with him. Couldn't she just kill him and get it over with?

_Too easy._ She laughed in his head, and though there was blood-lust aplenty in that laugh, there was almost a sardonic flirtation there too. _Where's the fun?_ A telepath? Logan grunted to himself, a telepath and an animorph. Interesting. Who the hell was she anyway? _For me to know, Wolverine. And for you to wonder about. Which you will._ And with that she launched herself at him again, a cat playing with a mouse for no better reason than it had dared cross her path.

"T'ing's gettin' a little Stormy 'round here, non?" Gambit addressed the world in general, the wind now plucking at his trench coat at Storm's command. He scowled darkly, glaring at her, angry that his trademark cards would be useless given the current weather conditions. "Now, Chere, you know you makin' t'ings difficult for Gambit. Mebbe we try dis little number instead, non?"

Gambit ran at Storm, his hand reaching inside his coat for his secondary weapon. Without altering his step, he flicked his wrist to extend the staff he kept concealed in a pocket, planting one end firmly in the ground and swinging round to plant a firm, double-footed kick into the weather-witch's stomach. Storm groaned and staggered backwards, somehow managing to keep her feet. But with Ororo's surprise came a lack of control and the wind died away. Gambit quickly charged the four Kings and flung the cards in Storm's direction. She cried out as they exploded like firecrackers almost in her face, driving her further from the battle.

Gambit's triumph was short-lived. A scream of air being instantaneously heated accompanied the searing thump to his back. He found himself thrown to the ground, face first into the mud, a most ungainly position for a suave, if none too sophisticated man like himself. He turned his head to his left, spitting out gravel, to see the tiger leap aside from another Cyclops attack. Cries from Pyro, Mystique and a savage snarl from Sabretooth implied that only the tiger had escaped being hit by Scott's solar-powered laser vision.

"Good job we installed the stun setting, eh Jean?" Cyclops grinned as he helped Jean back onto her feet.

_Only if it stuns your enemy._ The telepathic voice was sardonic, even bored. The roar the massive cat emitted was neither. Fierce and powerful, the sound echoed around the area, bouncing off walls and intensifying with every echo. Cyclops half-screamed as the tiger's claws ripped into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

_Get back._ Jean tried to use her telepathic and telekinetic powers against the tiger, thrusting a hand out toward the beast.

_You think you have power enough to rival me?_ The tiger turned its gaze onto Jean, laughing sarcastically with every word. _You give yourself too much credit, Jean Grey, as do the X-Men. You are weak, a child, nothing._

_My children, my X-Men, are _everything_ to me._ A gentle, calming masculine voice interrupted the argument before it could erupt into another full-scale battle of wills.

The tiger visibly stumbled backward at the telepathic intrusion, shocked to hear a voice she had not heard in years. The defence of the X-Men by the man she had known her entire life tripped her, her tiger form snarling angrily at the intrusion. Wolverine took the advantage and shoved her aside. The great beast hit a nearby wall with a sickening thump and slid to the floor, quietened now. She managed to turn her head a little at a gasp from the girl the Brotherhood had been after, to see her being bundled away by Storm. The Brotherhood mutants were still stunned from Cyclops attack and unable to prevent them escaping. She cursed them all in her mind, glancing back to see the other X-Men running in the opposite direction.

_That's right, X-Men, run home to Daddy!_ The great white tiger stumbled to her feet in time to watch the X-Men retreat, venom at the irony of her comment eroding her thought so that it almost didn't form. _For you are the children that mean everything to Him._ The tiger spat blood, a human gesture of contempt. Running a large pink tongue about her gums and deciding that at least all her teeth were still intact, the headache she could live with. Without even waiting for her fellow mutants, she turned tail and stalked away.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : I own none of the X-Men characters, save for Ilehana Xavier. Blaze belongs to Lamby. Apologies in advance for any insults to your characters, this is A/U after all!!! Rating is for… well, you'll see.

A/N : I have no idea where I'm going with this!!

What Might Have Been, Chapter 2

"You let her go?"

"Is not like we had a choice." Gambit snapped, angry that his boss could make him feel so small and useless.

"No choice?" Magneto stopped his pacing to face Gambit square on. His glare was like steel, Gambit could see his own reflection all too clearly in his boss' eyes. The Cajun was forced to suppress a shiver, it wouldn't do to show that kind of weakness in front of the ladies.

"Cyclops." Sabretooth growled the name disparagingly. He would have spat on the floor to show his contempt, but Magneto had a thing about cleanliness… something Sabretooth had never understood.

"You let that little runt stop you?" Magneto laughed sardonically.

"His firepower stopped them." The Vixen, human again, corrected her mentor snippily. Her refusal to claim that Cyclops stopped _her_ made Magneto stride slowly down to her at the far end of the line. He looked the Vixen up and down, taking in her slender but muscled six-foot frame; her short blonde hair and softly curved features. The tightly fitted vest top showed ample skin across the shoulders, she wore a lion's claw as a charm about her neck. The curves of her waist and hips were accentuated both by the top cut off above her belly and the low slung hipster trousers. The leather pants were snug to her form, revealing long muscled legs. Strappy, high-heeled shoes completed the outfit. Magneto reached out a gloved hand and lifted her chin with one finger.

"And what stopped you, my dear niece?"

******************************************************************

"Who is she, Chuck?"

Wolverine asked the question a little more delicately than he once might have. The two of them were alone in Xavier's office; Logan sat on the sideboard by the window, smoking his trademark cigar, while Xavier sat facing him, his fingertips touching and chin resting on his hands. Logan had spent the first few minutes of this meeting studying his old friend closely. Never had he seen the X-Men's mentor looking older and more haggard than when the X-men returned to Westchester.

"Her name is Blaze. She's an elemental mutant with the ability to create and control fire." Both men knew that Xavier had avoided Logan's question by speaking about the girl they had rescued. "I first found her when she was fifteen, the first time her mutant powers developed. Blaze is one of the most powerful mutants I have ever come across. When her powers first developed, they exploded in quite spectacular style, leaving her both scarred and terrified of herself. And so Blaze has spent the last few years suppressing her powers, denying them, and serving only to make her more dangerous than ever. She will need our help, Logan, and our guidance."

"Fair enough." Logan grunted, glancing out of the window. His next words were low, as if he suspected how deep they would cut his friend and mentor. "Now, how about the tiger-mutant?"

******************************************************************

Her eyes flashed with anger, her features tightening as she went over long-denied memories in her mind. Magneto smiled a little, his fingers grasping her chin and forcing her to look at him. Her features were so like her father's, yet her dazzling beauty was all her mother's, there was no way the Vixen could deny her bloodlines, her true heritage, no matter how much she longed to. She had come to Magneto years ago, defiant, angry and disappointingly unafraid. He had threatened her, beaten her, even in later years forced himself on her, unable to resist that beauty that reminded Eric of her mother, the woman he had burned for but never had, and yet still she followed him, though he knew she had no loyalty to him, only a dark hatred towards their mutual enemy.

"He did." She snapped defiantly as he twisted her head sharply back to face him. "He stopped me. As you knew he would." The attack was sharp and predatory, as was the jerk of her head that freed her from his grasp. Yet she refused to step away, ever unafraid. He backhanded her anyway, drawing blood from a split lip. Silence was her response, her beautiful face twisted into an ugly, soundless snarl. Magneto turned away from her in disgust.

"And still you let him control you." The Master of Magnetism offered, his tone steely and cold. "Get out, all of you. You disappoint me. Get out!"

******************************************************************

"Once, the telepath you met tonight was an apt pupil of mine. Never have I known a mutant gift to develop so young. The child was barely two years old when she first showed signs of a telepathic gift." Charles was obviously reluctant to divulge this knowledge, and Logan had to wonder at mutant powers showing themselves at such a young age, but it was clear that the Professor had more to tell, and so he kept his questions to himself. "But as time went on it became clear that her telepathy was not her only mutant power, for as she reached her teens, another gift presented itself; the ability to morph into predatory mammals and birds."

"She has a name?" Logan asked, still confused. What, exactly, was being left unsaid here?

"These days, she is known only as the Vixen. She left all other names behind years ago." The words came slowly, haltingly, from Xavier, and Charles found that as he spoke he could not look Logan in the eye. She had run from him, and yet Xavier still found himself overwhelmed by shame even to this day. "Her wit and intelligence are as sharp as her claws, her telepathy cuts just as deep." Silence for several long minutes, whilst Xavier plucked up the courage to blurt out the truth that he had hidden from his X-Men, from the world, for so long. "Her name is Ilehana Xavier. She is my daughter."

******************************************************************

"What happened out there, Cherie?" Gambit's hands snaked about her body, gently stroking her belly as his lips began to caress the side of her neck. They were stood on a rooftop overlooking the rest of New York City, the sky clouded and as dark as her scowl. The evening breeze made her soft skin cold to the touch, yet she had added nothing to her attire to protect herself, almost like the cold was some sort of punishment… With no response whatsoever from the Vixen, Gambit's hands began to wander, caressing her skin, her body, trying to glean something from her. One hand slipped up her top, but stopped when she hissed with pain. Her ribs had broken from the collision with the wall, and though she had managed to use her animorphing powers to fix them, they were still tender. He let his other hand wander lower, toying with the button of her trousers.

"I hate him." She growled the words, throwing Gambit's hands aside and stepping away from him, defiant as ever. Gambit smiled to himself, another torment perhaps. He laughed at her words, a mirthless chuckle.

"We all hate him, Cherie, but he pay us well, so we don' complain."

"Not Magneto." Vixen spat contemptuously. "Xavier."

"What harm the ol' guy ever do you? 'Cept get in our way from time to time?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me, ami."

She stepped back into the arms she knew would be waiting for her, turning so that her cold eyes met his unique red-on-black ones. She made a lewd comment about trying him too many times already and always being disappointed; stirring both anger and amusement in the Cajun thief. His fingers traced down her arms from shoulder to wrist, her skin refreshingly cold in the night air, he lifted one hand to bite playfully at her wrist. Her smile was empty as she stepped in to kiss him, biting at his lips with a feral hunger that he had never been able to resist. Nor would he now, for he knew he would get no answer to his question tonight, only this soulless act that left them both sated and warm, yet so cold on the inside…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : I own none of the X-Men characters, save for Ilehana Xavier and Stifle. Blaze belongs to Lamby. Apologies in advance for any insults to your character, this is A/U after all!!!

A/N : Thanks for the reviews Lamby, much appreciated. I had fun writing the next two chapters. I feel kind of sorry for Scott, and his poor ego!

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 3**

"Professor."

The voice, flat and devoid of emotion, silenced the children that gathered about him, some of them in excitement, some of them with regret. All of them bid him goodbye for the summer. But as she spoke, they all stared at the stranger, there was no mistaking that her features were his, no denying the blue-grey Xavier eyes that swept briefly over them all only to bore into his. She stood tall and lithe, completely unafraid of both Xavier and her surroundings, her chin raised in a manner that shouted defiance, her blonde hair only accentuating her scowl-darkened beauty. She wore her short hair spiked with gel that afternoon, brown eye shadow and mascara accentuated her eyes, coffee coloured lips snarled silently at her father. A short, black leather jacket did not hide the skin exposed by the shorter vest top, also black. Stonewashed blue denim jeans clung snugly to her long legs; two printed black dragons twined sinuously up her left calf and thigh. Rugged black boots peeped out from under her jeans, completing her outfit.

"Welcome home." Xavier's response was simple, the children gasping their surprise that this person that they had never known should live, or have lived, in their school. He bestowed a reassuring smile upon them all, then indicated that he wished to be alone with his guest. Bidding them to enjoy their holidays, he moved his wheelchair down the corridor away from them. She matched his speed, pacing slowly beside him. "But you cannot have her, Ilehana. Blaze stays with us, for as long as she so wishes."

"She belongs with the Brotherhood." Vixen's words were belligerent, verging on rude. "You cannot hold her here, Xavier, she is too powerful. She will destroy you all."

"You say your own family name as if it would bite you…" Sadness filled his words, seemingly careless of her warning.

"It certainly leaves bile in the mouth." Vixen shrugged soullessly. Her words were empty, as if she could not find the strength to put venom into them. Xavier knew that coming here, that even speaking with him had cost her a lot. "It is your name, Professor, not mine."

She said the last to hurt him, and sure enough, Xavier closed his eyes briefly against her denial of their connection, of her family, of him. It cut like a knife, even though she had not been Ilehana Xavier for many years. He knew the Vixen watched his reaction, knew also that though she did not regret the words, she regretted causing him his pain. Her next words were gentle. "Let her go, Father, you cannot save her any more than you could save me."

"Is that why you think I brought her here?"

"If not for that reason, then why?"

"I will not let Eric taken advantage of any more vulnerable mutants, Ilehana…"

"My name is Vixen," the animorph spat cruelly, once more denying everything they were to one another, pushing away the regret in his tone, "I answer to no other."

They rounded the corner to come face to face with a good proportion of the X-Men. Cyclops, his powerful vision hidden behind red sunglasses, Jean Grey, a soft feminine beauty with a mind of steel, Iceman, his bright blue eyes warm enough to deny his icy mutation, Storm, the Air Goddess, and Wolverine, his adimantium claws unsheathed and dangerous. It was Logan's sharp sense of smell that had attracted their attention to a member of the brotherhood's presence in the mansion, but all were astonished to see her conversing so naturally with the Professor.

"Vixen," the name fell regretfully from the Professor's lips, "you remember Scott, Jean and Ororo. This is Bobby Drake, and Logan."

Logan, his nose twitching a little at the strange female's enticing scent, seemed a little bemused by this calm introduction. He felt a little uncomfortable as she let her eyes roam hungrily over his body, and was even more surprised when she offered a hand first to Bobby and then to himself. Cautiously, as if he suspected attack at any moment, Wolverine let his claws retract, hissing just a little with the pain. But even in the presence of an enemy, his had to smile as she flirtatiously tipped him the slightest wink as she offered "We've met."

Looking into Logan's almost black eyes, the Vixen felt a slight twinge in her ribs. Knowing that this man's touch had sent her flying was a little unnerving. He alone amongst this group of X-Men had bested her, though the terms had been far from fair. Her father's distraction had thrown her concentration else she would surely have killed him. But as she looked him up and down, all too obviously checking him out, and wondered if she could have killed him? Of course she could, though it would have been a shame… she offered a hand to young Iceman, testing his strength and nerve as he shook it. Logan, it seemed, felt cornered when she offered the same courtesy to him. To put him at ease, she gave him the slightest hint of a wink. "We've met."

"Indeed." Xavier waved his colleagues away. "There is no danger here."

"I came to talk." The Vixen confirmed gently. "To bargain for the girl if I could. And to warn you. If Blaze's powers run astray, she will kill you all."

"And you have a better plan for her?" Scott sniped at her. His gaze, despite the shades, was filled with his vehement disapproval that she should be attracted to Wolverine.

_Jealous?_ She asked him, telepathically, laughing at him. _Are you jealous that both your lovers find Logan more of a man than you? She does, doesn't she? Look at you, clutching her hand as if you are afraid to let Jean go… because if you let her go, she will fall into his arms and his bed… There was a time when both she and I found _you_ attractive. But now she is a phoenix bedding a peacock, all strut and display, while he is a griffon, strong, daring and handsome… How long will your strutting keep her attention, Scott? Not long I'll warrant… but perhaps if you ask me nicely enough, I can keep Logan distracted for you…_

"Enough." Xavier rescued Scott from his wordless blustering, for his face had become red and angered not too far in to the Vixen's little speech. The Professor scowled at his daughter, and for an instant their expressions were almost identical. He had overheard the gist of her torment and wholly disapproved.

"We have a mutant who can give Blaze what she wants. A mutant who can help her bury her powers so deep down that they never need destroy anyone again save that she wishes it. Tell her that, Professor, and then see how long she will stay within your power."

The Vixen, with no more ado, spun on one heel and walked back to the front door. She went to the motorbike she had abandoned near the front door and paused there, running a hand seductively along its bodywork. She loved this bike almost as much as she loathed its benefactor. A gift from the Professor on her twenty-first birthday, she had so desperately wanted to return it, or destroy it, but had permitted herself to ride it back to the mansion and fallen in love with it. And now, it seemed, someone else had fallen in love with it too. An appreciative low whistle sounded behind her, and she smiled despite herself, though she did not turn. "You wanna take her for a spin?"

It was a moment of sheer madness on both of their parts, her for offering, and him for accepting. She had made the offer without even so much as glancing at him. Was it the motorbike that attracted him – the sleek design and magnanimous engine power – or perhaps it's owner, for the same reasons? But Logan suspected it had more to do with Scott that he strode down the steps to swing his leg over the bike. A sly grin on her face, the Vixen tossed him the keys and waited until he'd revved the engine and taken the bike the length of the mansion and back to turn it round before mounting the bike behind him. Surely she also knew that Scott watched from the shadows of the doorway as she pressed her hips into him, though she refused to hold onto him. Instead, as they gathered speed on the run down the driveway, she lifted her fists into the air and let out a glorious, spine-chilling wolf-howl.

Gambit heard the howl from where he was positioned outside the gateway, and seconds later her bike roared past in a cloud of dust and gravel as it swung left and away from him. He knew better than to follow her this time. He would report to Magneto that their attempt to reason with Xavier had failed as expected, but that the Vixen had already put Plan C into action…


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer : I own none of the X-Men characters, save for Ilehana Xavier and Stifle. Blaze belongs to Lamby. Apologies in advance for any insults to your character, this is A/U after all!!! Rating is for… well, you'll see.

A/N : Thanks for the reviews. I've really enjoyed writing this so far so onwards!

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 4**

The small hours were well into dawn when the Vixen pulled the bike up in front of the Xavier mansion. She did not switch off the engine, but let it idle as Logan clambered from the bitch-pad, almost delighting in the aches that ate at him after the long ride. He had to admit, she controlled the bike better than even he did, and that there could only be one ride better than that motorbike… A few less than subtle hints had been offered in that direction, like when she had slid her way round in front of him, wrapping her long legs about his waist. Her hands, from being linked behind his neck, had stroked his jaw line, down his neck and across his shoulders. She'd leant in to whisper his mutant name, Wolverine, in his ear. The softness of her breath in his ear made him shiver, and then she was nipping gently at his neck and ear, her hands caressing his chest and stroking his back… He was grateful that the wind had reddened his cheeks already so that she would not see his blush. She seemed to sense his thought though, as she reached a hand out to his belt buckle and pulled him close.

"Nice ride." She murmured huskily, and did not baulk when he bent to kiss her. Her lips were warm and moist, her tongue darting with his. She kept one hand one his belt, the other arm hooked about his waist even as he put one large hand at the base of her neck, the other running up her side from her hip to caress her breast.

"Nice of you to put in an appearance Logan." Scott added petulantly, causing the two to break apart. He was stood in the front door way, in boxers and a loosely fastened towelling dressing gown. "The Professor's been asking for you for hours."

"He knew how to reach me if it was that urgent." Logan turned to Scott with a scowl on his rugged features. His anger at the interruption only grew when the Vixen revved the bike's engine and pulled away far enough to turn the machine. She pulled up in front of the two men and offered Logan a sly smile.

"Catch ya later, handsome." She caught his hand and absurdly kissed his knuckles, her tongue flicking the skin seductively. He couldn't help the shiver that struck him, but he also noticed that her dark gaze was not on him, but on Scott. Logan scowled at Cyclops and pulled his hand away from the Vixen, shoving both hands into his jeans pockets.

"Maybe." He pushed his way past Scott and entered the house, storming up the stairs and into his room. Logan threw himself onto the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and heaving a great sigh borne of the tension he had been feeling all afternoon, of tiredness, and now of confusion. Definite history between Cyc and the girl, of that he was sure, but what, and when? Was Scott cheating on Jean? The thought made Logan irrationally furious, despite the number of times he had dreamed of her betraying Scott with him. He rolled off the bed onto his feet and went over to the window. He lifted the sash a few inches and leaned close to listen.

"… long past." Scott was saying, his voice fraught with denial. The Vixen had turned the engine of her motorbike off; their voices were loud in the morning's stillness to his accentuated hearing.

"You're saying you saw me today for the first time in years… and you feel nothing?"

"Not nothing." Scott's tone switched to anger. "Anger, pain, regret… what more do you want from me? You left here without a word…"

"Hardly without a word." Scorn racked the Vixen's tone. "So you were deaf to me as well as blind, Scott? Did I mean so little to you?"

"You were everything to me! My friend, my sister, my soul-mate…"

"Your lover." She laughed coldly, and Logan heard the crunch of gravel as she paced in front of Scott.

"One night." He dismissed it coldly. "One night that was a mistake…"

"Your mistake, Scott. What was it? Callous cruelty, that you could seduce me, and the next morning leave me sleeping while you went of sniffing after Jean? Or some noble thought of a parting gift?" Darkness seeped through her tone, and anger so white hot as to chill Logan to the core… what Scott must be thinking he had no idea…

"I never meant… I loved you Ilehana…" Scott's voice petered out, his protest muted as she rode over his words with a denial of her human name so colourful that Logan cringed visibly, glad that he was not in Cyc's boots at that moment. In the silence that followed, Logan gently closed the window. He had heard enough.

She glared at him, blue-grey eyes boring into his, her gaze packed full of the venom and power that darkened her soul. She stepped forward, her stride full of an intensity that made Scott step back hurriedly. He knew that if it came to a fight, he could not hurt her. His words had been true, at one time, not so long ago, he had loved this woman as both sister and friend, and who could not be attracted to her? Her hair had been longer then, almost always tied back in a soft but functional pony-tail, and he could never quite shake the image of her golden locks fanned out across his pillow as her hands gripped his shoulders, her lips mouthing his name silently as she shuddered blissfully beneath him… and some while later, the softness and warmth of her, her body nestled perfectly with his. He could have loved her forever, were it not for Jean…

"So I did mean something to you…" Her tone was soft, almost regretful as she read his memories. She stepped up close to him, one hand resting on his arm, almost but not quite drawing him towards her. Her lips met his, a gentle, healing kiss. For a moment, Scott stood frozen then found himself answering her kiss with his own, only to have her pull away with a dark and soundless laugh. Stepping away, she shrugged carelessly and straddled the bike again. The roar of the engine springing back to life just failed to mask her parting words. "Guess it was your loss."

And so Scott was left standing, half-dressed and aching, in the chill of the dawns air on the steps of his home. He watched the bike pull away from the school, and not without regret. Yet he frowned as he heard the sound of a second engine join the first, two bikes roaring away into the distance…


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer : I own none of the X-Men characters, save for Ilehana Xavier and Stifle. Blaze belongs to Lamby. Apologies in advance for any insults to your characters, this is A/U after all!!!

A/N : Thanks for the reviews Lamby.

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 5**

"So, Cherie, you have fun?" Gambit asked casually as they made their way up to their rooms to catch a couple of hours sleep before Magneto and the rest of the brotherhood stirred for the day.

"Wolverine certainly rides sweeter than you." Was her flippant response, as she stopped by the door to the attic stairs. Gambit scowled at the comment, angered more by the jealousy it provoked than by the insult itself.

"Wanna bet?"

She deftly side-stepped his attempt to reach out for her, though she could have easily let herself give in to him. Her run in with Scott had left him aching for her, but it had not lost its effect on her either. However much she hated the leader of the X-Men's field team, her regret that he had abandoned their new found lust, only to lust for Jean's attentions was not feigned. It galled her that Jean had beaten her to Scott's love, though these days the pain was much less than in times past. She glanced scornfully at Gambit, laughing soullessly at her eagerness for her body before bidding him a swift "Goodnight, or rather, good morning" and disappearing up into her attic room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"'Night Cherie." Gambit mumbled to the closed door, edging slowly away, almost hoping that the door would open once more and she would call him back but knowing that she would never be seen to be that weak.

She heard his response as she climbed the stairs, but could not smile to hear the regret in his tone. Gambit held no challenge for her any more. Her mind moved on to thoughts of home, at least the manor she had been born to. It had taken a lot more than Magneto's orders to force herself to enter the building that had been her childhood home, to face the man who had chosen to save his daughter over his wife, but then become so destroyed by his decision that he had come to resent the very presence of the daughter he had saved. But even then, the Vixen had stayed close, stayed loyal to the man she had once called father. It was only when he started to take in other young mutants, those Xavier found he could look in the eye and not be decimated by seeing his own, shadowed gaze haunting him, that the Vixen had cut her losses and run away. For a year, she had run the circumference of the world, only to be drawn back to Westchester by some, indescribable urge. Though she had spent the better part of a day watching young mutants running about the grounds of her home, watched her father tutoring Jean Grey in the sunshine outside his office, she had found herself completely unable to cross the threshold. And so, she had turned to the only other man she knew she could trust, her Godfather...

Magneto had broken that trust, drawing the Vixen deep into the depths of his brotherhood. Training her fast and hard, his beatings harsh and rarely deserved. Yet still the Vixen, along with the rest of the clan, drove herself to be the number one amidst the rest of his army. It was only when, in an alcohol-induced melancholy, Eric Lensherr had confessed his love for her mother, and how like her the Vixen was, that he had broken her. The feel of his hands, rough and eager, roaming her body, his powers holding her down with manipulated metal, his weight hot and sweaty upon her... The Vixen knuckled the tears from her eyes at the thought, shaking her head as if to clear the fog of memories. She threw open the loft window, climbing out into the dawn. Sitting delicately upon the eaves, she forced herself to think on, how she had shut down, withdrawn into herself and the safety of her own mind whenever Magneto summoned her. The abuse came frequently at first, but he tired of her soon enough, but by that point the Vixen had become numb to it all. To the animorph, the act of sex had become vile, dirty, cold... until Gambit came.

The Cajun had been attracted to her from the first, she had known that immediately, but his first advances had been slapped down hard, for she dared not submit herself to that act that left her cold and numb while it left the man worn and warm, his grey skin sweaty and flaccid. But Gambit had taken the hint, as well as another tack. He became her punch-bag – a way of letting off steam. Whenever she needed a rant, a row or a fight, Gambit had needled, pestered and irritated her, then endured the storming torrent of abuse that rained down upon him like a meteor shower. Slowly, with more patience than the Vixen had given him credit for, the Cajun thief had become a confident, if not a friend. The Vixen didn't have friends. And, eventually, he had shown her that sex could be warm, loving, and a pleasure for her as well as him... More than that, he selflessly gave her back the one thing that Magneto had stolen from her in his acts of rape. Control.

For a few minutes, no thought crossed her mind. It had been her defensive mechanism for years. Since being a young child, Vixen could remember sharing thought after thought with her father. Xavier had been delighted to find out that his daughter had the gift of telepathy, and had embraced it without restraint. For years, Ilehana had been used to the echo of her father's voice in her mind. She had never been truly alone. Then, with a sudden cruelty, the world and a young mutant had stripped Ilehana of her mother, and Professor Xavier of his wife. In the same moment, Ilehana had found her mind empty. No comforting presence, no rich, echoing voice. Just nothing, the only thoughts in her mind, her own. Was that what it was like to be a normal human or a non-telepathic mutant? Such a terribly lonely life... And it had never returned. Even when the Professor had entered her mind to talk to her, his voice had been sharp and crisp, with no emotion, as if he was afraid to reveal himself to her. So alone...

She was still alone, all these years later, sat on a cold, lonely rooftop. The tiles were rough under her fingers, rough and cold, with edges sharpened by weather and time. Silence denied the time of day, birds and other small animals avoided the brotherhood's lair. Pyro's fire and her predatory nature, along with one or two of the other mutants that resided there saw to that. So completely alone. The Vixen sighed heavily, tired beyond measure. She dragged herself upright, climbing back in through the window with deft agility. She Changed into her favourite form, a black wolf, curling up on her bed. Her tail flicked round so that the blonde tips cushioned her muzzle as it rested on her front paws. Sleep claimed her after but a few moments, though her sleep was peppered by dreams of an empty blackness and fire.

Fire woke her, heat and light and burning that singed her fur and stung her nose. She was bolt upright, body alert before her mind was even fully awake. The vision in her mind burned white hot, blinding her to anything but the fire. Her father's mental shout disturbed her more than anything. She hadn't heard his voice as fearful as that since her mother had died as the building around her collapsed. Her father was afraid, terrified, not for himself but for those around him. The Vixen scrambled into the previous days clothes, her human body griping at the mal-treatment at Changing so quickly. There was only one thought on her mind; to reach the mansion as quickly as she could. Damn the stubborn old man. She cursed her father even as she stormed through the corridors of the mansion to the garage.

"Going somewhere?" Magneto's steely voice failed to stop Vixen in her tracks, but she did slow her pace to allow the brotherhood's master to fall in step with her. His touch, hand gripping her arm, halted her. She turned, wrenching her arm stubbornly from his grip.

"The girl exploded. Did some damage to someone, enough to cause the Professor some real concern." The Vixen snapped the words.

"And you care because?"

"I don't." The Vixen sniped back, all too aware that she was lying. "If I can get to the girl, I can persuade her to let Stifle help her. Then? It's up to you."

"Really? That is magnanimous of you, my dear." His voice, soft as silk, had an undertone of iron.

"I've told you before, I'll not be a party to your deceptions, Eric." Vixen was tired of the old argument. "I'll bring the girl to you, but I will not lie to her. That's your forte, and you'll put up with it because it suits you to have your arch enemy's daughter in your closest councils. It suits you to have a mutant who can walk into Xavier's mansion without fear of harm."

"Then go to her, my dear." Magneto spoke through gritted teeth, aware that despite his helmet, his god-daughter might as well have read his very thoughts. He stopped at the door to the garage. "Prove your worth to me, bring her back to us."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer : see previous chapters

A/N : Been a while on this one.

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 6**

She skidded the motorcycle to a halt, peppering the front steps with gravel and letting the cycle fall to the ground in a move that was extremely careless for the normally controlled Vixen. She burst into the mansion, startling four students who were rushing through the corridor. They did not question her as she went straight to the panel in the wall that would give her access to the lift to the lower levels. Her confidence was enough to convince them that she belonged there. Vixen opened the panel by pressing the bottom left corner. It swung open to reveal a pad, upon which she pressed her hand. Half-convinced that the lift would not open to her, the Vixen started slightly as the door hissed sideways. She stepped into the lift let it carry her down to the X-Men's secret lair.

The smell of smoke pervaded the lower levels even before the lift doors opened. The Vixen's sensitive nose wrinkled in disgust, and her skin tightened with fear. A thick, grey cloud greeted her, even as Iceman and Rogue dashed past her. Neither one noticed as she followed them at a discreet distance. They rushed straight to the Danger Room, but Vixen went first to the observation point next to the infirmary, where she was half relieved and half terrified not to find her father. Instead, she paused to watch as Jean Grey attended to an unconscious and rather singed Wolverine. She felt a stab of concern that surprised her; she hadn't expected to care for the feral man's well-being. He seemed well enough, his skin completely healed... the Vixen would never have known that he had been involved at all if it weren't for his singed sideburns and hair.

She found herself unable to resist a gentle touch on his mind, finding him not under anaesthetic as she had expected but simply sleeping, a deep, healing sleep. She left him to recover, concerned now for her father. Vixen followed the stench of fire and burning machinery to the danger room. She grimaced appreciatively, so her father hadn't underestimated the girl's abilities or danger level after all. The Danger Room was built to withstand earthquakes and explosions of the highest magnitude. And having Wolverine, the indestructible man, train the girl was sensible enough, the question now was where the Professor was?

"I thought you might come back." Speak of the devil himself; Xavier appeared from the direction of the observation deck above the Danger Room. Relief flooded his daughter; Xavier was shocked to feel the wave of emotion that ran through her. It had been years since she had deigned to share anything with him, though he doubted that this sharing had been intentional. He smiled softly, relieved but somehow surprised that she did still feel something other than anger or hate for him.

"You startled me out of my sleep." She commented levelly, revealing nothing. Her eyes, when Xavier dared to glance into them, were cold and flat.

"I apologise for disturbing you." There was a light, teasing sarcasm to his tone that somewhat surprised Vixen, it had been a long time since the two of them had shared any form of merriment. She rewarded his effort with the twitch of one corner of her mouth. "The training session with Blaze went somewhat awry..."

"So I can smell." Vixen wrinkled her nose. "How is she?"

"Her powers are burning too strongly, no-one can get near her to calm her down. I cannot break through her barriers alone..."

"So you plan to borrow Jean's strength?" She looked at him through narrowed eyes for a moment, trying to read her father without intruding on his thoughts. "But, of course, you don't trust Jean's powers..."

"You know there are certain barriers that mean I cannot harness Jean's strength." Xavier admitted quietly. He sighed lightly, wondering at the wisdom of his next statement. "You could help me."

It was an offhand comment, made seriously, that took the Vixen aback. She glared at the Professor, angered by his request. He dared to suggest that she would lend him her strength after all this time? He spoke of the barriers within Jean's mind with an awe that did not surprise her, simply because she knew and understood them. Her own telepathy had been used to help install them so many years ago now. But what grated more was that her father did not even know his own daughter's strength. It galled her that the gulf between them was now so great that he had no idea what she was capable of. All because he had left her alone, all because he had shown her his cold face since her mother had died. Years of anger and hate and regret suddenly erupted to the surface, and the Vixen exploded.

"Why should I?" She snarled at him, causing her father to instinctively put a little distance between himself and his angry daughter. "Why should I lend to my strength to the man who turned his back on me?"

She regretted the words, regretted the lack of control, the moment they passed her lips, but she could not take them back. Nor did she try. This conversation was years in the making, and, though she knew that the timing was far from appropriate, the wound was already torn open and bleeding anew. Vixen watched her father close his eyes and hang his head in shame. "I did not turn my back on you, Ilehana, but I could not help but see everything that was your mother in you... I loved her so much, and she was taken from me..."

Vixen's lip curled up in a snarl that denied the great tide of emotions that washed through her as her mind fought the statement made by her father. She glared at him, and he blanched beneath the force of her stare and the thoughts that she sent his way. Tears welled in his eyes as he understood her own sense of loss and how it was so much worse than his own... but neither Charles nor Vixen cared to continue the conversation as a series of cries echoed from the Danger Room. Without further delay, the Vixen turned on her heel and ran towards the Danger Room, but she was not prepared for what she found there.

Confusion prevailed in the vast Danger Room, though more was going on that when the Professor had left to greet his daughter. Storm hovered in midair, wind and rain working to battle the great ring of fire that still burned. Iceman and Rogue battled the blaze from the ground, Rogue having borrowed Bobby's icy mutant power. Yet as fast as their ice was produced, the fire melted it. Xavier watched his daughter closely as she observed the scene. Vixen's nostrils flared with the stench of burning, her eyes widened with her fear, she was so taken aback by the size of the burning ring, her predatory side terrified by the heat and light and noise. However, the eminently practical Vixen mastered her fear with her usual efficiency. He watched as she stepped forward towards the fire.

"Leave us!"

The command was barked at Storm, Rogue and Iceman, a tone that Xavier knew he had used himself on rare occasions, one that brooked no argument. However, each of the X-Men glanced towards their mentor for instruction, and the Professor simply nodded once. He, too, retreated from the Danger Room, sensing his daughter's need for privacy though he worried for her safety. Moreover, he felt her barriers drop as she enveloped the girl in a telepathic bubble, and felt a renewed concern. Right from the moment of her birth, Xavier had known that his daughter was destined for great things, but never in all his hopes and dreams had he imagined such power for her...

**Peace, little Firefly.** The nickname was soft, slightly mocking. **You will destroy yourself if your fires continue to burn. You know this to be true.**

From somewhere buried deep inside, Vixen felt Blaze raise her frightened head. She sensed so much more from the Fire Elemental; flash images that the Vixen did not search for but saw anyway. Blaze was a killer, though through no fault of her own. Her parents, burnt to death the first time poor Blaze had lost control of her mutant ability to create and control fire, attackers in Paris, her closest and only friend who had tried so hard to help her and failed... **Stop, Firefly, stop. I would see no more of this.** She pushed the images away. **You must calm yourself Blaze, these are good people who _can_ help you, as they have helped so many others...**

The naming of a name has always been a powerful thing, and with it, Blaze felt her fires begin to cool. She felt the Vixen's telepathy blanket her, soft and soothing. Her grip was as strong and warm as a sisterly hug, yet gentle and cooling as winter's first snow. **You don't want me to stay here.** Blaze understood the thought that had barely begun to form in the Vixen's mind. Vixen hesitated, knowing both what her master and what her father would want her to say. Here her loyalties divided, both resting on the answer she was about to give.

**You have four choices Blaze, as I see it. Keep burning now; destroy yourself and the people who want to help you. Run, as you have run for so long, but the likelihood is that you will destroy yourself in the end anyway.** Vixen shook her head soulfully. **Come with me, to the Brotherhood, let our mutant Stifle your powers so that you never need fear them again.**

Eagerness swept through the fiery mutant at this, so desperate was she to get away from the powers that had terrified her for so long. The offer was what the girl had always wanted, to be normal, and not a danger to herself and others. She would have risen then, gone with the Vixen in an instant, but something in the telepath's bearing made her hesitate. **Or?** She prompted, watching as Vixen hesitated again. The tall, lean woman took a breath, then seemed to settle her resolve. Even as she spoke, Blaze sensed that the last option cost Vixen something, though what, Blaze wasn't sure.

**Or stay here, with the Professor. He will help you control your firepower. It will not be an easy ride, but the reward will be so much greater... if you can bring yourself to face your regrets and fears.**

**You've never feared your mutation...** Once again, Vixen marvelled at how adeptly Blaze grasped the telepathic link between them. **What would you know about it?**

**I never faced my fear, Blaze, and in doing so I lost someone dear to me. Don't turn your back on him as I did. Embrace my father's teachings; that is my advice to you.**

Vixen opened her eyes to find a young girl standing in front of here, red hair dancing in ringlets as she shook her head at the pain that emanated from Vixen. Her soulful brown eyes were still filled with her fire, but there was an eagerness in her face and bearing that made the Vixen smile. Moments later, the door to the Danger Room opened to admit the Professor, Storm, Rogue and Iceman. Blaze's rosebud lips smiled nervously, her button nose wrinkling just a little as she greeted the four X-Men.

"I'm sorry, Professor..." There was a shameful catch in Blaze's quiet words.

"No harm has been done, Blaze, I told you before we began your training that you could not harm Logan..."

"At least not permanently." Wolverine stalked into the Danger Room to stand beside the Professor. He spread his arms and rotated his torso from side to side as if to prove his point. "See kid, no real damage done."

"Except to the hairdo." Rogue sniggered, brushing Logan's singed locks with a gloved hand. Logan glared at the X-Men as they all laughed. Vixen remained aloof to the joke, her eyes still on Blaze when Logan looked her way.

"C'Mon kid." Logan put a large hand on Blaze's shoulder, guiding her towards the door. "I don't know about you but I could use a pizza..."

"Sounds great!" Blaze enthused, hungry after burning such a huge amount of her energy reserves. With Storm, Rogue and Bobby also adding their agreement, the five made their way out of the Danger Room, leaving father and daughter alone. Both Xavier and Vixen watched them leave with a certain amount of pride in a good job done. But just as the Professor turned to thank his daughter, the Vixen spoke first.

"You lost a wife that day..." The response to her father's earlier words was little more than a whisper. "But don't you see, on that day I lost both my parents. I felt her die, heard her screams as that building collapsed around us, and then, in that same fateful moment, I felt you die inside. It was like someone snuffed out the sparkle in your mind... I lost you as well as her that day..."

She was fighting tears, not that anyone other than her father could ever have known it. Her face was blank even as she continued... "Every time you looked at me, it was either with lifeless eyes, or with resentment that I lived and she had died. Every single day I wished... I would give anything... anything... to have taken her place that day, because then you would still be together, and perhaps you would still be happy..."

"Never say that." Xavier's head snapped up, and he gripped her hand suddenly, horrified by Ilehana's words. Anger flashed in his eyes. "Never, never say that! You think I could ever be happy without you in my life? These last few years have been nothing but torment for me! You were my life, Ilehana, you were all that kept me going, watching you grow and learn and become more beautiful, more like her everyday... And then I lost you..."

She was embarrassed by his display of affection and made ashamed by his comebacks to her arguments. So many times had Vixen been over those old arguments in her mind, so many times she had fought with an imaginary Professor, and she had never been defeated and deflated by his retorts. Now, though, she felt nothing but a vast shame that caused her to tear her hand from his grip and turn her back on him. She marched out of the Danger Room, leaving the Professor to shake his head and trail after her.


	7. Chapter 7

**What Might Have Been, Chapter 7**

Magneto was little more than a blur hidden behind a red haze as he back-handed her across the mouth. Her head snapped back as she reeled with the blow. Sabretooth, Magneto's feral henchman, had inflicted most of the punishment at Magneto's nodded commands, but the Master of Magnetism had been unable to resist dealing the final blow himself. He had barraged her with words, haranguing her with his anger and disappointment, ranting over how she had failed him and all of the Brotherhood by not returning with the girl. She had been disloyal to him, Magneto had claimed, betrayed his trust and teachings, and at first Vixen had genuinely listened. However, as the beating had gone on, his lecture had become little more than a background hum, almost indistinguishable from the ringing in Vixen's ears. Long ago, she had learnt to deal with his vicious treatment, which had so often been followed by him forcing himself on her in his heightened emotional state, and even now, as she swayed gently on the spot, she had to wonder if she could dig deep enough to fight him off if he tried it now.

He didn't, storming out of the room instead with Sabretooth on his heels. Vixen managed to stay standing long enough to ensure that he was truly gone, before crumbling into a heap on the floor. Unable to move, she simply curled up in a ball on the cold, metal floor, knees clutched to her chest. Her body shook viciously from the beating she had taken for failing to bring Blaze back to the Brotherhood's lair, but in her heart, Vixen knew that she had done the right thing; that she had left Blaze in the best possible care and the safest place for the fire elemental, rather than bring her back where Magneto could twist and bend the fiery mutant to his will as he had done Ilehana herself.

Time passed without recognition for Vixen, her head pounding with every heartbeat. It seemed that an age passed before the door opened slowly, and the almost predictable "Chere...?" reached her ears. Gambit came into the room slowly; his footsteps hesitant, as if he was afraid that she would leap up from her foetal position and attack him. To be fair, there had been occasions when she had surprised him like that, but not this day. She felt his gloved hand grip her chin and gently twist her face towards him. Her face had swollen enough so that Vixen could barely see him, but Gambit's gasp of horror was enough to tell her that she looked as bad as she felt.

"Oh Chere, Gambit hate to see you like dis." His voice was soft, soothing. "What happened? Why'd you leave the girl with Xavier?"

Gambit knew she wouldn't justify herself to him, even if she'd had the voice or the energy. He'd only asked in order to give him a moment to assess the damage Sabretooth had done. And he'd done some good ol' damage to the Vixen's beautiful face. Gambit's red-on-black eyes filled with concern for the only person in the Brotherhood that he considered a friend. Her face was swollen on the left side; both eyes were nearly swollen shut. Blood oozed from the corner of her left eye and mouth. She groaned in pain as Gambit mopped her face with a damp, rough cloth. "I got your back, Cherie, rest easy." He felt her telepathic assent and gratitude, then a wave of pain that was not his own ate at him as he lifted her gently into his arms. "I swear, Cherie, that feral fur-ball will pay for dis."

**No need.** Vixen's telepathic voice was exhausted but grim. **Sabretooth will get what he deserves sooner or later.**

"Gambit pray it sooner rather than later, Vixen, before he kill you."

**Takes a lot more than a roughing up to kill me...** Vixen laughed soullessly in Gambit's mind. Her fingers curled in the front of his shirt. **But I appreciate the lift.**

Gambit barked a humourless laugh in response, shifting her carefully in his arms, and was amazed when she relaxed completely. He had never known the woman he was now carrying to give herself so completely to anyone. Always with Vixen came guards and barriers, preventing Gambit or anyone else from getting too close, despite the intimate nature of their acquaintance. She did not even protest when he bore her up to her attic room, a place that Gambit had never before been allowed. He paused for a moment at the top of the stairs to look about the room, as tidy and soulless as Vixen's life with the Brotherhood. He lay her down, struggling to push the duvet aside before he did so. Covering her gently with the duvet, Gambit noticed that some of the swelling in her face was already reducing.

**The advantage of being an ani-morph.** She sounded so tired to Gambit, whose frown deepened.

"I let you sleep, Cherie, you be better in the mornin' non?" He leant over to kiss her forehead, then went to turn away, only for Vixen to grip his hand in her own.

**Stay.** It was not a request, and so he stayed.

The following day found Vixen in a melancholy mood. She had woken to find Gambit still sleeping beside her, his back turned to her. Careful not to disturb him, she had risen cautiously, expecting her body to protest the previous day's mal-treatment; however her ani-morphing body had begun to heal the deeper wounds. She could do little for the surface bruising, her face was still a bright shade of purple, and she would not have even if she could. Let the rest of the Brotherhood see what Magneto was capable of, if they had any doubts. Vixen avoided any further glances in the mirror, ashamed of her appearance. After dressing, she had given Gambit an irritated nudge. Once convinced that he was waking, she disappeared from the Brotherhood's lair before Magneto could get his hands on her again.

She rode for hours, unsure where to go or what to do. The way she saw it, Vixen had made a clear choice the previous day. When she had advised Blaze to remain with the X-Men, she had chosen her thin loyalty to her father over her thinner loyalty to the Brotherhood. Now, she found herself questioning whether she could remain with the Brotherhood having made that choice. For want of anything better to do, Vixen made her way to a bar not far from the X-Men's mansion. She ordered a beer, politely declined the cheekily made offer to sit at the bar with the owner, and sat in a booth at the far end of the bar. Lost in her own thoughts and slowly drinking her beer, Vixen missed the arrival of another mutant at the bar, until he placed another beer in front of her.

"Somethin' on your mind, darlin'?"

"More than what's going on in yours I should imagine." The words were harsh, but tempered by the dull, bored tone. Wolverine raised an eyebrow in response, unsure how to reply.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Free country." She gestured her permission. He slid into the booth opposite her, leant back and lit a cigar. He watched her nose twitch in offence but she made no comment other than to ask "What are you doing here?"

"Place that size filled with kids and nothin' in the ice box but soda?" Logan smiled. "Man has to get out once in a while." He smiled with her; Vixen's merely the twitch of the corner of her mouth. Logan watched as she mirrored his body language, relaxing back in her seat after lifting the beer he had supplied for her, though whether it was a conscious thing, he was unsure. She, too, watched him for several moments. Logan shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny which was as open, frank and appreciative as ever. Finally, she frowned.

"Why do I get the feeling that's not why you're really here?"

"The Professor thought you might need some company after yesterday."

"I thought he might have had something to do with it." She commented wryly.

"He's concerned about ya." Logan frowned harshly, nodding at the state of her face. "By the looks of it, with good reason."

"This?" Vixen gestured at her face sharply. "This is nothing."

"I know." Logan answered softly, but it was a denial of her statement not acceptance. "Your father told me. Seems these telepathic cries for help work both ways."

"Mmmmmm." She hadn't realised that during her beating she had let her carefully built walls slip. Clearly her closer dealings with her father had made her careless. Vixen shrugged to herself; what was done was done, but she would not be that sloppy again.

They talked for a while about inconsequential things, and when Logan challenged her to a game of pool, she readily accepted, not wanting to return to the Brotherhood's lair. Vixen found herself warming to the feral mutant all the more. Wolverine demanded nothing from her, and though he offered little of himself, he was generous with his time and beer, though for every round he bought, Vixen insisted on returning the favour. The pair of them were warm and fuzzy with beer, laughing at themselves and each other as they moved about the table, barely acknowledging the way they flirtatiously brushed past each other to make a shot. It was the most pleasant and wasteful time that she has spent in many months, and she felt more at peace that she had in a long time.

"So." Logan had just beaten her for the fourth game in a row and was returning the cues to the rack in the corner. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he did so. "What's next?"

"I don't follow." She walked up to him and leant on the wall beside the rack, arms folded in an unconscious imitation of one of Logan's favourite poses. Logan leant beside her, hand resting on her elbow. He smiled, and Vixen found herself expecting a corny along the lines of "your place or mine?" Instead, what she got was an invite to join Logan on his next mission. "Mission?"

"Your father's detected a developing young mutant. He thought he'd send me along to keep an eye on her." Logan looked at Vixen with a smile. "When he discovered that her power is the ability to transform into a wolf, he suggested I might need someone who thinks as a wolf does. He suggested you."

"And you thought you'd need to get me drunk to get me to agree?"

"No." Logan's tone was husky with desire as he reached out to pull her close and into his arms. She resisted only long enough to unfold her arms and push herself off the wall. Simply and easily, she melted into him, fitting her body to his. "I got you drunk to do this." And with that, he kissed her soundly on the mouth, groaning into her as she responded with a feral ferocity that he could understand. Logan took this response as an affirmative to his request.


End file.
